


Spoons

by misbegotten



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comment Fic, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-26
Updated: 2011-04-26
Packaged: 2017-10-18 17:22:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/191347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misbegotten/pseuds/misbegotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which there is a deplorable lack of spoons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spoons

Sam can't sleep, but not for the usual reasons. The archangel who was happily snoozing across his chest a few hours ago seems to be up and about. At three in the morning. The fact that Gabriel doesn't actually _need_ to sleep rarely keeps him from doing so, but apparently this is going to be one of those nights.

"Gabriel," Sam says tiredly. "Come back to bed."

Gabriel appears briefly on the horizon of the bed, clad only in a pair of boxers, and abruptly sticks his finger in Sam's mouth. "Mph," Sam says, getting a taste of hot fudge and angelic buzz.

With a grin, Gabriel dances away to the small table at the far corner of the room. Sam drags himself out of bed and notes that there are two enormous bowls of ice cream on the table's surface. Gabriel hums cheerfully to himself as he pours hot fudge in velvety trickles over the ice cream. Out of nowhere, he conjures a can of whipped cream and proceeds to decorate the sundaes with fluffy towers.

"Nuts or no nuts?" he asks as Sam pads to stand behind him, hands on Gabriel's shoulders. "You strike me as a nuts kind of guy."

"I'm definitely nuts," Sam agrees happily. Gabriel tops each sundae with a cherry and turns to Sam.

"Ready to eat?"

"Spoons?" Sam asks, looking around.

Gabriel grins broadly. "Who said anything about spoons?" With a snap of his fingers, Sam is flat on his back on the bed, Gabriel straddling him. In his hand is one of the bowls, and he runs a finger through the ice cream mixture, making "yum, yum" noises. Sam squirms, but Gabriel's got him pinned with his ridiculously strong angel thighs.

"Gabriel," Sam says warningly, but Gabriel just smirks and traces a symbol on Sam's chest. The ice cream has cooled, warmed by the fudge, and the result is an inky brown trail across Sam's left pectoral muscle. Before Sam can protest further, Gabriel starts drawing again, ending with a flourish just above Sam's abdomen.

"What are you writing?" Sam asks, trying unsuccessfully to read Enochian upside down.

"Roughly, 'mine,'" Gabriel responds merrily. He sets the bowl down on the bedside table and leans forward to lick the sugary line across Sam's torso. "And maybe 'hands off.'"

"Maybe?" Sam asks, bemused.

"My Enochian is a little rusty," Gabriel says, but somehow Sam doesn't believe him.

"And how long am I supposed to wear your graffiti?" Sam tries not to yelp as Gabriel's teeth skim his nipple.

"As long as it takes us to get to the shower. Or I can lick the rest of it off," Gabriel suggests. Suggestively.

Sam shrugs nonchalantly. "I don't suppose you still have that can of whipped cream."

Gabriel beams.


End file.
